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Tuesday, September 17, 2024

18 years since adenoid cystic carcinoma diagnosis & treatment - I have reached old age

Back in 2006 when I was all alone in that radiation treatment room, having the machines zap my head to get rid of the leftover cancer cells, I held on to the wish that I would reach old age. This year, as my cancer diagnosis is old enough to vote, I am happy to tell you, my reader, that I have reached the old age category. 

Nothing new on the cancer front - my annual oncology visit was uneventful, still clear lung x-ray. On the old age front - much has been happening. I had been experiencing extreme leg swelling that I could not keep controlled with over the counter compression stockings, so I visited our vascular clinic (yep, leaky veins) and had a cardiac scan (heart is fine, no circulation issues there). I was then sent to our lymphedema clinic where expert occupational therapists wrapped me up every other day for three weeks. I had daily exercises to go along with the wrapping which reduced the fluid and swelling in my legs. I didn't know much before I started the treatment, and not much is out there about people's experience with the wrapping. I was fearful of what all of this would entail - and didn't get much information from my caregivers until the morning the wrapping took place. Thankfully, my lymphedema was caught in the early stages. Because my mom had severe swelling in her legs the five years before she died, I am very motivated to do nearly anything to stop the swelling and maintain movement. I don't want to get trapped at home like she was. 

Now that I have been released from the every-other-day wrapping (which wasn't bad except for the inability to get a shower whenever I wanted one), I have to maintain the work to keep fluid from building up. This involves a few more layers to wear. Back in 2006, I said out loud that going through cancer treatment meant one never had to wear panty hose again. As they say, "never say never" - I am pretty sure I jinxed myself. I now have compression panty hose that I have to wear during my waking hours, proving that whatever power is out there has a wicked sense of humor. Putting them on in the morning is my new aerobic activity. I will never again go to the bathroom quickly, and now hang out in the handicapped stall in order to haul the panty hose back up to do their rightful compression action. (I know, too much information - tough, I already said I reached old age.) The image on the panty hose box is deceiving - no, my legs do not now look like this photo on the right! I have another layer of leggings to wear if I am hiking or exercising to increase the compression on my legs. 

Making my way around campus wrapped in tight panty hose and working to get strength back into my legs reminds me that all of us are walking around wearing layers of something - sadness, grief, worry, fear. I learned first-hand about living with the layers when I was going through the initial cancer surgery and treatment. I am now reminded daily about this fact again. I hope it keeps me open and understanding to the great students and professionals around me who are dealing with their own layers while caring for me and other patiets at our medical center. I am glad I can remain committed to do a good job in my health science library career and be open to what the future still holds for me. I wish you, dear reader, a good year ahead as you work through or with your own layers. I still hold hope that #HumansWin.


 
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